AsylumTale
by anime addicted help please
Summary: frisk, chara, monster kid, and asriel are placed in a run down mental asylum, all for different reasons. when sans and papyrus join as social worker, nothing can go wrong!... right? Trigger warnings: suicide, self harm, depression, the works. fem!chara. Nonbinary!frisk male!Monsterkid
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but I had been formulating and working on this idea. While scrolling through archive of our own (really good fanfic site, generally classy fics. Check it out!) I saw a fanfic about an AU they called "asylum tale"**

 **In this AU, frisk, chara, Asriel and monster kid are in a mental hospital. The 6 fallen humans were kids in the asylum who had committed suicide, and the staff doesn't care. The place is run down and in desperate need of bettering. The staff, once againo doesn't care and their laziness might result in a budget cut, or the establishment closing down. So they hired two new social workers (sans and papyrus) to go and try to see if they could help the kids. I took to this idea, and I've been trying to figure out how I would fit in everybody else that I thought would work in this fic. I came out with these ideas! Thanks for being patient with me!**

 **(Normally I would make chara non binary, however with two non binary characters it would get confusing who was talking to who. I decided on female as that's what I relate to more.)**

The car ride was long, monotonous and boring in every way. Frisk could hardly believe they had managed to get themself into this situation, how had this all begun? They could hear toriel humming in the front, a gentle lullaby tune that was all too familiar to them. They could hear Toriel said tight breathing, and see her tight grip on the wheel. These little ticks that showed how upset and nervous she really was _._

 _Frisk had been caught a week ago, red handed. The knife in their hands glimmered and shone in the dull light, the silver specked with red. Blood was all over the comforter, and frisk sat there with their arms bloody. Bleeding. Frisk had turned when the door opened, eyes wide with panic at toriel entering, biting their lip at the sound of a plate hitting the floor. Mom had just wanted to give them pie._

 _Toriel had immediately rushed into the room, her eyes glossy with tears, and snatched the knife. She'd picked Frisk up, the blood working its way into her nightgown. She'd rushed Frisk to the ER, where they made sure Frisk wouldn't die, but had Toriel get Frisk into a mental hospital. After a week of packing and tearful goodbyes to their friends, Frisk had climbed into the car._

"My child?" Toriel's voice snapped them out of their memory. They looked up, making eye contact through the rear view mirror. They nodded on, silently signaling for her to continue. "Are you ready? We are almost there."

Frisk simply nodded. They'd appreciated how Toriel didn't treat them any differently, aside from hiding away all the knifes. Frisk couldn't say they'd done the same, and treated everything as though nothing had happened. They had refused to speak, similar to how they had for years awhile back. From ages eight through twelve they hadn't spoken, learning sign language in order to maintain communication. They'd finally spoken on their twelfth birthday, at which Toriel had cried. Now they were fifteen, and back on linguistic strike.

"There will be other children there as well. Some your age too!... My child, I need you to promise me something. Something small, nothing too hard." This piqued Frisk's interest. Toriel had told them she'd had a friend in college who took promises so seriously that he'd be willing to die rather than break one. Since then, Toriel never asked for promises, because that had a new, deeper meaning to her. "I need you to promise me you'll try." The car pulled into the lot. "Try, at least, to follow what they say. Try to get better. Please, my child… For me?"

Frisk nodded, though it hurt them to do so. They didn't want to try, they wanted to die! They didn't want to get better. They wanted it all to be over so it couldn't get worse. They didn't want this to go on, they didn't want life to go on!... But they couldn't hurt Toriel like that. They couldn't hurt their pet, Toby the dog. They couldn't hurt all of their friends. So they nodded yes, and unclipped their seatbelt.

Toriel was soon out of the car and by their side, taking their hand and leading them inside peachford mental hospital. There was a fish tank in the wall, filled with a whole rainbow of fish. There were two or three people in the lobby, and no one glanced up as toriel walked in. She and frisk wandered over to the reception desk, where a glamorous looking man sat. He had hair sweeping over one eye, and the figure of a god. Frisk couldn't help but run their eyes over the long, perfect legs and sigh, knowing they would never have that because they would be dead before they had a chance to because their body was different.

"Why hello there, darlings! You must be the…. Dreemurrs?" he glanced down at a mostly blank paper, with one name scrawled across the top in pink glitter pen. "Then you would be frisk! Aww, she's so cute!" Frisk scowled at the floor, while Toriel breathed in deeply.

"Frisk prefers they/them pronouns." It was said tightly, with venom just an inch away from her voice. Mettaton's visible eye lit up in shock, and he gasped aloud.

"Oh my lord! I am so sorry, I didn't mean to misgender you. Trust me, I understand all about that." Mettaton sighed, adjusting his hair with a hand. "Allow me to give you two a tour. Then we'll drop Frisk off at lunch and get down to the boring paperwork." Toriel checked with Frisk and when they nodded, the group set out on the tour.

They stepped into a long hallway, with doors dotting all along with one way glass windows everywhere. In some of the rooms there were people, reading, laying in bed, and much more. Each room was identical, with a twin sized bed in one corner, a dresser in the next cornering the middle, another twin bed in the other corner, two chairs, a table and a single motivational poster on the wall. Every poster was cheesy, some had cats dangling with the words, "hang in there!" Others had images of landscapes with things such as, "don't give up!" Or other dumb things. Some were of famous people with quotes. All of them were stupid.

The paint was peeling on the walls, the windows were chipped and dirty. Nothing was actually in clean shape, and there were six empty "rooms" filled with stuff. Blood was all over the floor of one of the rooms. Toriel seemed uneasy, wondering whether or not it was really a good idea to send her child here, but Mettaton was already speaking. "That room is a memoir to one of our patients, who committed suicide. In all of our years of operation, we've had a total of 6 people commit suicide. We've been operating for 60 years!" He pulled the focus away from the blood and to the prestige of the place, and Toriel immediately piped up. Frisk seemed to sink in on themself.

In the next room, there was a pair of patients. One of them was a kid in an orange striped shirt and orange pajama bottoms. He was sitting on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge. His eyes were bright, and he had a Mohawk of an easy going ginger color. He was talking animatedly with another kid, on the other bed. This other kid had on a green and yellow striped massive sweater, hanging down to his knees. He had black jeans on beneath, and fuzzy white slippers. His hair was dead white, and hanging downs bit on the sides. It was clear he hadn't had a haircut for a good long while. He was listening, and tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the table.

As Frisk walked by, the kids smiled at Mettaton, but as soon as he was passed the kids looked at Frisk sadly, almost in a warning say. Frisk immediately swallowed down a nervous sound, and bit their tongue. They wouldn't make sound. They would go here, and they would wait until they were cleared.

The next room only had one patient. She was sitting in the corner, holding a book and reading. One leg was tucked against her while the other was laid out flat on the floor. As they walked by, she looked up, and scoffed at Mettaton. "Hey there big man."

Mettaton said face darkened, and he sped up, clearly trying to avoid what this child was going to say. "What's for lunch today?" She gave a slight sneer.

"Macaroni and cheese, green beans, milk." Mettaton huffed. "Come on, let's view the cafeteria!" Mettaton's normal spunk and cheer returned as soon as Chara was out of earshot. He swept them into the cafeteria, a large room with many circular tables. Uncomfortable looking a metal chairs surrounded each table, with room for six at each. Mettaton showed them how there was "room for healthy, monitored socialization."

"And then, of course," Mettaton flipped his hair. "We have rooms for small groups where you talk about how you're feeling, therapy rooms, and… Panic rooms." Frisk looked up at this, tilting their head. "A panic room is where we take children who are having a panic attack. They stay in this room, filled with stress fidgets and comfortable chairs as long as they need." At that Frisk beamed. Finally there was something this place had that could actually help them.

"You seem to have a fine establishment running here! Frisk will have a good time here. My child, is this alright to you?" Toriel looked down at Frisk, concerned but hopeful. Frisk plastered on a smile and nodded. "Excellent! We shall get frisk a room immediately. Mettaton, I shall go fill out the paperwork in the lobby while you take them to their room."

Toriel stepped into the lobby, and went to the desk to talk to the other lady. Mettaton guided Frisk. "Now then, frisk, get this straight. There is only one room available currently, and that's shares with… Chara." Mettaton got a scowl. "Darling, if they threaten you, tell me, and I will have that _taken care of."_ Frisk swallowed a bit of spit, and stepped into the room. Mettaton backed out and went to Toriel.

"Hey there. I'm Chara… You?" Frisk but their lip, then raised their hands to sign. They made their name, nervously, not knowing if Chara would understand. "Frisk? Sorry, if I got it wrong, I haven't had to read sign in… 2 months?" She sighed. "Are you deaf, or is this by choice? I won't be mad either way."

" _By choice."_ They decided to keep it simple, just for Chara.

"Alright. Listen, pretty much everyone here speaks sign language… Well, not the staff, but still. All the kids do." Frisk nodded. "The staff here is awful. They ignore us, they hardly feed us, and… Everything is awful. 6 people committed suicide in this year." Frisk's eyes shot open. That was not what the desk attendant had said.

"I'll fill you in on the etiquette. It's alright to ask why someone got put in here, but it's not alright to press for details. It's fine to sass people, it's not fine to attack their mental illness. It's alright to misgender someone the first couple times, but past that it's rude. You got it?" Frisk just nodded their head and sighed. They had a feeling this was going to be a long, and painful stay.

 **So…? What did you think? I really want to get this continuing, I think this will be around 7-10 chapters? This was just the introduction, so we haven't even introduced sans and paps, that should be around chapter 3. Maybe later. I have a serious plan, so let me know if this is good! I've already started chapter two, so it should be out in around 4-5 days.**

 **Word count: 1,762**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's late, I just…. Blegh. Life is difficult**

Frisk and chara had sat around and chatted for a good two hours, when Mettaton walked by. "Lunch time! Come along children!" Frisk stepped out, sticking behind Chara. They didn't know anyone, and they were hoping they could blend into Chara's group of friends, and get in without too much trouble.

"Asriel! MK! Come here!" Chara let a little yell out, calling over the two kids Frisk had seen earlier. They both came over, scrambling there quickly.

"Chara!" The white haired child cried. "I was so worried about you…" Chara let out a little giggle.

"Asriel, if you think a little punishment is gonna hold me back, you are wrong! I'm gonna keep on doing what I'm doing, doesn't matter what the people who run this place say."

The orange one sighed. "Chara, one of these days…" She just laughed. Mohawk (as Frisk was starting to call him) noticed Frisk was there. "Oh hey, it's the new kid! I'm MK. you are…?"

" _Frisk… If you don't mind me asking, what were you all admitted for? I'm trying to find what crowd I want to stick with…"_ Frisk hoped they weren't being rude. They stepped through the wide doors into the cafeteria.

Chara piped up. "Well tell you right after we get some food, 'kay?" Frisk just nodded and got in line. As soon as they walked into the lunch bar, the smells that assaulted their nose made them want to vomit. Foremost was salt, strong and acidic and burning their nose. Then there was the putrid stench of mold, and a strong scent of old lady perfume. They looked up to see who was running the lunch line, and it was an two people, an old man and an extremely old woman. The man was reminiscent of a turtle, with yellow eyes and a bald head. According to the name tag, his name was Gerson. The old woman was a nondescript old lady, puffy white hair and gentle eyes. They were given a tiny plate of macaroni, overcooked green beans, and a small, heavily bruised apple.

Stepping into the room, they saw people sitting at every table. Some had just one person, others were full, but it looked almost coordinated. They saw Chara sitting with MK and Asriel, all of them chatting. When they saw Frisk, they waved their arms around in an attempt to get noticed. Frisk let out a silent giggle, and sat down.

MK spoke loudly, "I'll go first! Ok, so frisk, we're having this little contest to see who's the most fucked up out of all of us at this table. So far, it's one vote each." Frisk giggled, realizing they had each voted for themself once. "I am in here because occasionally I get these massive hallucinations where I think I don't have arms, and that the security guard here is some kind of war hero. Honestly, I don't think she minds the second part. When I get these, go along with it. If I figure out it's a hallucination I freak out." Frisk nodded, making a mental note on how to handle that.

"I'm Asriel… I have severe anxiety, um, most kinds. Social anxiety, situational, and any other kind you can think of…" Frisk nodded, understanding. They had probably had anxiety, though they didn't have it half as bad.

"As you know, I am Chara, your roommate. I got stuck here for suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and also homicidal thoughts and tendencies. Fancy labels, huh?" Cara laughed, a snorts somewhere in the middle. "In my mind, I think me and monster kid have it worst.

" _My turn?"_ Frisk raised their hands to ask, since they were wondering weather or not they should tell. Everyone in the group nodded. The first thing frisk did was pull their sleeves up, showing the massive wrapping of bandage, stretching from wrist to elbow on each arm. The group around them guessed. " _I tried to kill myself. My adoptive mom walked in. I'm pretty sure I have a bit of anxiety, I have depression, I get these massive night terrors in which I kill all my friends and family, and much more. Ready to vote on who's the most fucked up?"_ They didn't actually know the symbol for fuck, as their mom never taught it. They just made a crude gesture, hoping the point would get across.

"Alright," Chara spoke, drawing the attention, "all who vote MK, say, 'I'. The table was silent. "All who think Asriel?" Not a sound rang out. Chara looked smug. "all who vote Chara?" Silence. Chara's eyes widened, but they carried on. "All who vote frisk…?"

Everyone said I, except for frisk who simply raised their hand. Upon seeing that they had won by a landslide, they stood up and took a deep bow. Everyone laughed at that. " _Why me?"_ Frisk was confused as to why they had been chosen over everyone else. They all had their problems, which were equal, right?

Everyone seemed nervous until MK spoke, looking down at the table. "You're the only one here who's ever actually attempted suicide. Well, Chara did by accident, they cut too deep I mean, but… Yours was intentional." Frisk nodded. They had guessed as much, but we're hoping to have been proven wrong. Asriel attempted to lighten the mood.

"The Mac and cheese is so… Dry." Everyone laughed, and soon the conversation was back in swing. For a good ten minutes, they'd talked about dumb stuff, until, Mettaton came over.

"Alright everyone! It's time to go to therapy groups. Frisk… you can join chara's group, if only for the sake of putting you somewhere." She smiled, and soon frisk was following Chara, Asriel, and MK to a small room, with a couple chairs in a circle. Everyone took a seat, and Mettaton walked in.

"This is group therapy! You talk about how you feel, honestly, among each other. No adults." He smiled. "Get talking!" Mettaton sauntered out of the room, and the kids. Just kinda stayed still, until Mk broke the silence.

"Got milk?" Soon the whole group was laughing about nothing in particular, and the conversation was back. They talked about whatever came to mind, from their favorite foods to what they think their diagnosis is, until they settled on a more serious conversation topic.

"What were your parents like?" Asriel asked innocently. At that point everyone sighed, and he immediately began stumbling over his words. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mess it up… Oh, uh, we don't have to talk about this! We fawn um-"

Chara cut him off. "No, it's fine. We should probably talk about this." Chara but her lip, drawing it tight and close to breaking, before speaking again. "My parents are pretty absent. They never really acknowledge my existence… they feed me, pay for my stuff, but we never do anything together. They just kinda ignore me." Everyone in the group took a moment to process this information, breathing deeply.

MK woke up next, wringing his hands around each other. "My mom is always working really late, out all night trying to pay the bills… My dad sits around drunk, or goes out to stay with sluts." MK got a scowl. "My mom deserves so much better than that sack of shit!" Everyone nodded, agreeing. Chara rung her hands, pulling the skin so tight it was pale.

"My parents were great! They just… Put a lot of pressure on me…" Asriel decided to go next. "If I don't get all a pluses, they scream at me. They act so disappointed. They're always trying to get me to do things I really don't want to do… When it came to light that I needed hospitalization, they were so disappointed in me…"

Chara looked him dead in the face. "Asriel, there's no shame in asking for help. You got what you needed. This was good for you, this would be if the people here weren't shit!" Chara clenched their hands. "I want to kill them! I want to take my hands. Around their throats and choke until their lips turn blue! I can't stand them! I-"

Frisk could tell that Chara was working herself up, and gently out a hand in hers. Chara took a deep breath and turned to frisk, signaling them to spill their beans. " _I… My first parents were fantastic. I lived with them until I was 7. They really loved me, but… They went grocery shopping, and a robbery happened. They got shot. I was then moved into an abusive foster home, I got beaten as much as possible. When the cops found out, I was moved to a new home, where I was adopted. I refused to speak from ages 8-12, as I couldn't let go of my past… I spoke for three years until I was caught about a week ago."_

Everyone was shocked, and soon they were all holding each other in comfort and tears.

"Peachford mental hospital, how may I help you?" Mettaton picked up the phone, only to be greeted by a rough voice.

"You are in danger of getting shut down."

"Mr. Blook! Ah, how nice to talk…what do you mean by get shut down?" Mettaton swallowed dryly, nervous. Mr. Blook ran the company of mental hospitals dotted across the southern area, and his held a great reputation for mental health. If he found out about their current operations…

"I'm sending two new social workers. If you don't have the place running well in 3 months, than I will shut it down. I will not lose my prestige."

"Of course!" Mettaton hung up the phone, and gripped his head in his hands. They were doomed.

 **Hey I know no one is actually reading this story but yeah, here's chapter two. I'm sorry it's late, life is getting in the way and stuff. Summer vacation's coming up soon so I should be able to write more. Goodbye I guess?**


	3. Chapter 3

****Ok! Sans and papyrus are coming soon!****

 **They went to sleep that night in their room with Chara, glad to finally get some sleep. About fifteen minutes into the night, however, two men with large flashlights shined directly onto their faces, making sure they were alive. The men were talking loudly, and not caring about them. The middle of the night, repetitively, over and over until time to wake up. They went to Chara, and asked them about it in the morning.**

 **"** **They have to make sure we're not dead, so they check. Come on, it's time for showers…" Chara scowled "listen, it's a rough time. The bathrooms are like prison, one wall, twenty or so shower heads. There's no dividers or curtains…" Frisks breathing began to pick up. They were non binary, someone might see them and start calling them** ** _those_** **pronouns. Not the ones they used. "We have an honor code not to look at each other though, so you should be fine. People shouldn't care even if something were to happen."**

 **Frisk nodded, and Chara led them to the next place they needed to be. The towel room. They grabbed the softest towel they could find (that being coarse and grainy) and waited while Chara looked. Glancing around and seeing so many people who would be in the same room, naked, showering with them freaked them out. They breathed in and out, taking in air, calming down. No one should look at them. No one would look at them. They would be fine. Chara took their hand and squeezed in, and they walked into the shower room.**

 **Frisk darted for the corner shower, facing the edge. Everyone had a butt. People wouldn't be able to tell anything from their butt. Carefully, they took off their clothes, breathing deeply through their nose. Something about the smell of the air was scary to them, and they couldn't explain it, but it smelled like pain. Pushing through it, they turned on the shower head. They were pleasantly surprised to find warm water, and put it the shampoo. As they rinsed it out, they paid a moment to stay under the warm water. Everything was going well.**

 **At the next breath everything went wrong. The water turned cold as many other kids turned it on, and they recognized the heavy stench in the air. The cold water washing over their face, was it running or swirling? They couldn't tell anymore, and they couldn't breathe, it was too much. They couldn't breathe or think and nothing was happening and soon their mind pulled them into memories.**

 ** _Their foster father dragged them by the hair into the bathroom, shoving them down onto their knees by the toilet. "you failure! The police asked you about the bruises, and it took you to long to answer! Do you realize how many problems this will cause?" Their father reached into the cabinet and pulled out the toilet cleaner, pouring it into the bowl until the water was fully purple. "They're going to ask me how I treat you! We'll have to put on our perfect little family show… God, are you even worth the money?" Suddenly, their heads dunked into the water. The water was dead cold, and the Sani flush burned their face. They tried to breathe, but got a burning lungful, and began to cough. They began to wonder if this was how they were going to die here, like this. They wondered if that was a good thing, when their face was pulled out. They hacked and spluttered until their lungs were emptied. Their father refilled the toilet with the cleanser, stuck their face in, and flushed, and the feeling of their face being dragged by the water was to much, it was all too much._**

 **They were on the floor of the showers, wheezing and panting and the cold water was on their face, pulling their face, burning because of the scent. Chara hurried over and tried to help them up, but they curled tighter into fetal position. Asriel and MK looked worried off to their left but no, that wasn't good, it wasn't, the sani flush was in their nose and the ice cold water was there as well. Suddenly, two large men came and picked them up, and dragged them away. They began rapidly flailing their hands, shaping desperate words. "** ** _Chara Asriel MK help help help no, don't take me do not take I don't want this"_** **and they kept repeating. Chara ran up and punched one of the men in the face, throwing a towel at frisk, with their brief moment of freedom they wrapped the towel around themself. Their arms were grabbed again, and they were sobbing and they couldn't breathe and it didn't make any sense at all.**

 **They were dragged into a room full of cots, and they were thrown on top of one, the scratchy material making them itch. The men strapped their arms down to the bed, so they began flailing their legs, which were soon also strapped to the scratchy cot. All they had was their towel, and they were panicked. Nothing was working, so they just sobbed, the horse noises hardly reminiscent of their normal voice. Soon they were left to cry on the cot, as the men left and they were alone on the bed.**

 **Sans was done with the car ride, he couldn't stand it any longer. Her had no idea how Papyrus, his brother, was able to drive for so long in such a cheerful manner. He couldn't go for half an hour without feeling tired, let alone the five hour drive paps had taken them on. Mr. Blook had sent them a long way for this job, so when they finally pulled up sans sighed with relief. He ran his hair through his messy brown hair, deciding it was getting a little long.**

 **"** **BROTHER!" Papyrus beamed. "WE HAVE ARRIVED! IT IS TIME TO GO IN AND SEE THE OPERATION OF THIS BRAND-NEW LOCATION!" Sans gave a lazy smile and nodded, before stepping into the front office. There was a fish tank by the wall, filled with an array of tiny fish. An attendant sat at the desk with the most perfect legs he'd ever seen propped up on the table.**

 **"** **Ah! You two must be the new workers Mr. Blook sent." He stood up. "We had a little…incident in the showers this morning." The way his chipper voice dipped on the word incident made sans feel slightly nervous. "If you could show us your skill by calming down our panicking inmate, that would be appreciated." Sans realized that right off of the bat they would be working.**

 **"** **How about you give my brother here the tour, and I deal with the panicked one? It's not going to help the kid if they get crowded." Sans said. Mettaton nodded, and led the way back to a room labeled panic room. He didn't know what he was expecting, but this was not it.**

 **There was a series of touch scratchy cots with restraints built in. The room smelled of bleach and sweat, and there wasn't a window to be seen. The room was dead silent save the rough sobbing of a kid in the corner, and that wasn't the most shocking. The kid was only covered by a towel, and they were sopping wet. The cot was soaked through and dripping onto the ground, and they were pulling against the restraints.**

"Leave." He shoved Mettaton out of the room, and stepped towards the kid, slowly and carefully. He undid the hand restraints first, and the kids sobbing lightened up. They're hands were immediately flying above them, sign language spilling out. "Hey kid? I need you to listen to me. My name is sans. I'm a friend. I'm going to go get one of your friends, ok? Tell me who I need to get, allright?" And their hands were flying in a repeated series of letters.

So sans got up and went to find this Chara. He eventually found a girl pacing back and forth, chewing on her lip. She was stressed, kicking the floor, clearly worried about something. She saw him approaching and snarled at him. "H-Hey! Where's frisk? What did you all do with them?"

Sans sighed. "I'm taking you to them now. They aren't going to calm down until you're there, and they have some decent clothes on. Do you know where their room is?" The kid, Chara it seemed, led him to a room that was cramped and small with two beds, a dresser, a table, and a toilet in the corner. The worst, least comforting room he'd ever seen.

"Grab their most comfy clothes, doesn't matter if they're pajamas or normal clothes. Also, do you two have a towel?" Chara just ignored him and grabbed a mostly dry towel off of the floor, a large massive sweater out of a drawer, and a pair of comfortable pants. Soon they walked into the the so called "panic room" and saw frisk rocking back and forth in the corner, weeping and taking gasping breaths. Chara slowly walked over and sat beside them, and her face softened considerably.

"Frisk?" Frisk glanced up, and looked at them. "I have some clothes for you… And I have a towel to dry off, so just… Here. I won't look." Chara shut their eyes, and sans followed suit. He waited until the rustle of clothing being pulled on stopped, and until he heard Chara's voice. "There we go frisk? Better?" Frisk just gave a shaken nod. "Let's get out of this awful room, ok? Let's go together to our room. Sans can come if you want?" Frisk nodded rapidly, hands twisting and shaking, breath short. Chara took their hand and carefully and gently led them to their room, with sans following closely behind. Eventually, through gentle breathing exercises, frisk managed to calm down. Calm enough to breathe normally, and relax.

"Hey kid, you are you doing alright?" Frisk nodded, and grabbed chara's hand. They were still on edge, so sans decided a crowd wouldn't be best now. "Hey Chara, who are you two's friends? I want to get them in here to help you out. Is that alright?" After confirming with frisk that it was alright, he stood up to go get them.

Chara was shocked. They had just taken frisk to the morning showers, just an easy, calm time to go there. They took them early so less people could see them, they got them the cornerstall. Everything was fine until the cleaning ladies poured the toilet cleanser into the dish, and the putrid stench spread. Suddenly, frisk was on the ground rocking back and forth, sobbing. Chara tried to get them to calm down before _they_ came, but soon the people were there and dragging frisk away. Showers were cut short, and they were dried off and enter to their rooms. Chara got sent with Asriel and MK.

"Ch-Chara?" Asriel was shaking. "Is frisk going to be ok?" Monster kid bit their lip, scuffing the ground with one foot. Chara began to consider what on earth she should say. She didn't know whether or not frisk would be ok. She didn't know when they would be back, but she didn't want to upset Asriel.

"Asriel, frisk will be fine. They were getting a little calmer, it's going to be ok." Chara thought over, and realized

Mettaton began showing the strangely attractive man around, while papyrus surveyed the scene. Looking at this place, he could already list of thirty or so things that would definitely not help a panic attack. The rusting jail-cell style bars, the dark and peeling paint. This place would need a massive do-over; Mr. Blook certainly had their work cut out for them.

"GOOD MR. METTATON?" Papyrus let out a gentle shout, getting his attention. Mettaton looked over. "THIS ENTIRE PLACE NEEDS RE-DOING. THIS ENVIRONMENT WOULD NOT BE HELPFUL TO HEALING THE MINDS OF THE YOUNG YOUTHS. ALSO, WHAT ARE THE AGES OF CHILDREN HOUSED IN THIS FINE ESTABLISHMENT?"

Mettaton sighed, and mumbled out an answer. "The eldest in Peachford is eighteen, and the youngest…. Is…" Mettaton barely said the next word, clearly ashamed. "Three."

"EXCUSE ME?" Papyrus's face was shocked. "I DO BELIEVE I MISHEARD YOU. DID YOU SAY… THREE?" He could hardly believe his ears, a three year old? That had to be a misheard, or a joke. But his fears were only heightened when Mettaton nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. "AND… ARE THERE MULTIPLE THREE YEAR OLDS?" Mettaton nodded. Papyrus sighed.

"YOU CANT EXACTLY DIAGNOSE A THREE YEAR OLD UNLESS THEY SPEAK OF VOICES IN THEIR HEAD, OR TRY TO STAB SOMEONE. METTATON, WHY WOULD YOU AUTHORIZE THESE INCARCERATIONS?" He looked hurt and confused. A three year old did not need to be sent here, that just didn't make sense!

"While I understand that, if the client's parents pay enough we have to accept them." Mettaton bit his lip. "I don't know how else to do this. The handful of three year olds we have are here for anger issues!"

Papyrus simply sighed and bit his lip. By the end of the tour, it seemed like there was no way to get this place in workable condition… But he would try, for the sake of every child stuck in the god forsaken place.


End file.
